


Tag, You're It

by AryaStella



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Yuri Plisetsky, Drugs, Forbidden Love, Guns, M/M, Murder, Oral Sex, Prison, Prostitution, Public Sex, Russian Mafia, Serial Killers, Top Otabek Altin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27189478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AryaStella/pseuds/AryaStella
Summary: Yuri works for the his grandfather's bratva, disguising as a hooker and murdering whoever he's told to. Otabek, a member of the Kazakh mafia, is serving his time in prison after being caught in the act. All hell breaks loose when a blonde brat stumbles through the gates of the prison.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin & Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov & Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	1. Wassup Daddy

"We gotta get going, tell him to hurry up" Victor paced around the van, Katsuki sitting next to him with a big pair of headphones, patiently listening to the scene on the other side.

  
"He's getting to it, get the car ready."

  
Through the headphones, he could hear Yuri Plisetsky work his magic.

  
"Mmmh!" Yuri's high pitched moan rang through his ears. " Oh god! Yes, fuck, yes".

  
Katsuki could hear the bed creaking faster and faster, the man under Yuri grunting and slapping. 

  
"Ugh.. I'm close Sasha" the man choked out, and Yuri smirked, rocking down onto him faster. _They're most vulnerable when they're floating._ Pushing the man's head into his neck, his hand reached out to the pillow next to them, pulling out his sharp stiletto knife. 

  
Katsuki heard the slapping stop, the man shouting as he finished inside the hooker. Not a second later he hears another shout, a _scream_ as Plisetsky digs the knife one spot after the other, marking the man's back and sides with gushing red lines while breathlessly laughing.

  
"We're here." Victor says on another line, Katsuki jumping his leg in tension, hoping the blonde brat gets out of the room in time. 

  
"Mmm, shame." the hooker whispered in the choking man's ear. "You were a good one, _Красивый_ (handsome)." 

  
"YURI!" Katsuki whispered harshly into the microphone, trying to hurry the boy up and out of the scene.

  
"Fine!" Yuri says, pushing the knife once again into the man's chest, huffing with a smile as the man gasps and chokes on the pain. "You guys are no fun" he says as he gets up from straddling the abused body, snatching the knife out, and pulling the deserted black skirt over his fishnet covered legs. 

  
"Ugh, I loved those" he says as he touches the big rip on his ass, now covered by the skirt. 

  
"Get the fuck outta there Yuri" Yuri rolled his eyes at Katsuki's stupid attempt at sounding intimidating, instead sounding like a stressed out piggy. 

  
Yuri pulled on his big grey fur coat, black thigh high boots in hand as he stepped to the 1st floor's balcony, scanning the place until he saw Victor and two other guards, corssing their arms and not looking too happy. 

  
"Wassup daddy" Yuri smiles, throwing the boots down next to them. 

  
Victor signals the guards to pick up the shoes and get the car started, walking over to the boy, helping him get to the ground. 

  
"You owe me a pair of fishnets, these are fucked" he grunts as he jumps to the grass. 

  
"Sounded like you quiet enjoyed it in the moment" Victor says with a hint of a smirk, walking away to the car. 

  
"And I deserve a fucking Emmy for that"

  
They drove to the Bratva lodge silently, Victor on his phone texting whoever-the-fuck wanted the guy dead, while Yuri kept whining about the hole in his nets.   
Getting to the house, Yuri kicked the car door open and walked right in and up to his room, ignoring Katsuki's stupid face as he welcomed him with a smile.   
Stripping out of his coat, he hears a knock on his door.

"FUCK OFF" he yells as he picks up the dirty boots, dusting them off and putting them in place. 

  
"Don't shower yet, I got another job for you." Victor's smooth voice hit through the black door.

  
"Like hell you do, I'm done for today."

  
"I'll be in the office in 15 minutes." Victor said unbothered and walked away.

  
Sighing, Yuri stripped out of his beloved abused fishnets and into sheer thigh high socks with lace on the top. Putting on black stiletto heels, and topping the outfit off with the same grey coat, he decided to keep the smudged black eyeshadow as it is. 

  
He walked into his bathroom, quickly washing the dripping knife, letting the dark red blood swirl around the sink until it became transparent.

  
"I'm tired, make it quick" Yuri spat as he jumped into one of the office chairs in front of Victor's desk, putting his legs on the table. 

  
"That's up to you, Yurio." The silver haired man said joyfully. 

  
They both looked up as Nikolai Plisetsky, Pakhan of the Bratva, walked in, looking at Yuri straight in the eye. Yuri got the hint and took his legs off the desk. Grandpa was the only person he did NOT fuck around with. 

  
"The Kazakhs need a man gone. We're gonna get that man gone." The pakhan started, and Yuri smirked. "I left the case on your desk, Victor. Read through it and get ready. I want you both here by 4:00." he said coldly, giving Victor a nod of respect, not giving Yuri a second glance.

The pakhan left the room, his guards closing the doors behind him, and Yuri slowly returned his legs to the top of the desk with a sigh, trying to seem unbothered. Victor smiled at him with pitty, knowing the boy was a disgrace in his grandfather's eyes. 

  
"You're getting the job done, you're saving his ass Yurio. He appreciates it."

  
"Whatever."

  
Reading through the spontaneous case, they were out the door in under 40 minutes, knife secured tightly inside the back of Yuri's coat. 

  
"You know the drill, you-"

  
"Of course I know the fucking drill." Yuri snapped, crossed his arms and looked out the window. 

  
"Yuuri is with you at all times, use the codes if you feel unsafe."

  
Yuri ignored the older man, repeating words he has heard a thousand times before, as he never ran into a scene where he felt unsafe. 

  
Getting out of the car, Victor turned around to him with a smile. "Stay safe, Yurio" he beamed, as he always did. Yuri rolled his eyes and pushed his earphone deeper into his ear, opening the car door. 

  
"See you later, fags"

  
Yuri walked through the cold streets of Saint Petersburg, hands shoved down into the pockets of his coat. 

  
"Hi Yurio!" piggy screamed in his ear. "He should be inside the bar on your right. Do you see it? The red one? With the-"

  
"Yes, you idiot, I see it" he whispered. He turned the volume of his earphone down as he reached inside his coat, making sure the knife was in place.

Taking a deep breath, he walked in. Soft jazz music played as he scanned the place, Brown wood walls with low hanging yellow lights, posters of late musicians decorating the walls. _Ugh_ , Yuri thought. _Hipsters_.

  
The place was fairly crowded, bearded men paired with tattooed women, smoking the night away. At the sight, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and took a seat on one of the high chairs.

  
"He should be wearing a black shirt." Yuuri said softly.

  
Yuri rolled his eyes. Everyone was wearing a black shirt.

  
Rememering the case pointed out his target having light blonde hair and a french accent, he spotted a guy, blonde hair on top of dark sides. _I just gotta make him talk_. 

  
"Hey" Yuri stands over the guy, who is sitting at one of the tables by himself. "You got a light?" he asks, raising his cigarette into view. 

  
"Ah, no, _mon ange_ (my angel)". 

  
**Bingo**. 

  
Yuri smiled sweetly as he sat down next to him. "Not even a cigarette can keep me company" he sighed, eyeing the man. "You waiting for anyone?" 

  
"Not until you came, mon amour" the man gazed deeply into Yuri's eyes, smiling lovingly.

  
This is too easy. This is too fast. Something is off.

  
Yuri opened his mouth to reply, movement catching his eye. He watched as two suited man walked into the bar, and took a seat at the table closest to the door.

  
_They're blocking me in._

  
"I'm sorry, I can't hear you," Yuri leaned into the man, "there's such a weird **echo** ".

  
"I'm listening Yurio" Kastuki said immediately, recognizing the first code word. "I'm here. How many are there?" he asks, Victor jumping from his spot next to Katsuki to listen closely. 

  
Yuri, desperately trying to find a way to slip in the answer, leans closer to the man. "Let's go outside, I have **two** cigs left." He stands up without waiting for the man to reply, making his way out while praying to god that the two men won't stop him. 

  
"Two of them, I got it" Yuri hears Katsuki saying nervously as Victor talks loudly to his guards. "We'll be right there Yurio."

  
Breathing out a heavy sigh of pure relief as he successfully walks out of the bar, he gasps as he feels his hands suddenly held tightly around his back, freezing metal wrapping around them. 

  
"Yuri Plisetsky, you're under arrest." 


	2. LFP

"Lockdown for count!" a guard shouted, stepping heavily down the hall scattered with scarred up, big men, swirling his taser around in one hand, the other fixed tightly on the gun in his holster.

  
Otabek rolled his eyes. _Without his gun, he would be eaten up alive_. Prison ain't a place for men relying on their weapon. Here, you save yourself with your own bare hands. 

  
"Stand up!" the guard banged on Otabek's cell door, making all three inmates jump up to their feet. Counting them, the guard frowned and looked down to his list. "Where the fuck is Ostrovsky?"

  
Knowing better, the men stayed quiet. They didn't know where the man was, but they had a pretty good idea. Later that day, their concerns were confirmed. 

  
Watching the police carry a long black bag out of the building was no rare sight, but damn was it terrifying. The only thought keeping you sane while serving time is the thought of freedom, how close it is, and if you'll get to see it. 

  
Otabek's freedom was taken away 17 months ago. Trusting his father, the head of the Kazakh Mafia, he went out for his mission. At the grungy, abandoned warehouse, he expected to find a member of the Plisetsky Bratva, exchange weapon with data, and fuck outta there. The man was standing behind the scraped building, big hanging bag filled with audio tapes and copied photographs. Otabek walked up to him, nodding silently as he pulled out a bag of 10 dynamites tied together. 

  
Dropping the bag of dynamites to the ground next to the man, he heard heavy footsteps getting faster and faster behind him. Then he heard sirens. The man, alarmed as he was, grabbed the bag of dynamites and started sprinting the other way. Otabek, wide eyed, stumbled as he, too, began to run for his life. 

  
When he saw the ground next to him exploding with the force of a bullet, he harshly pulled out both of his guns from their holsters, shooting back at the shadows with both arms as he quickly ran down a small hill. The bratva member, barely in view anymore, didn't seem to care as a stick of dynamite escaped the tie and rolled down to the ground. Otabek sprinted, pushing the gun back into the holster in record time as he pulled out a lighter, hiding behind a rock tall enough to protect his body in the 10 seconds he had left to save his life. 

  
"Come on, come on" he whispered, sweat sliding down his face as his heart felt like it would take off any second. Lighting up the stick, he gasped as he threw it with as much force as his shaking body could gather. He ran, grunting loudly as exhaustion took over his adrenaline. By the yells, he knew he got some of them. But not all of them. Catching up to Otabek, they pinned him down, and tased him to unconsciousness. 

Otabek didn't hate prison. Sticking to his nonchalant persona, he only spoke when being spoken to, and never lifted his head too high. The Kazakh mafia was known to be working with the Plisetsky's, the main Bratva of the whole of Russia, so he didn't have to worry much for respect under the conditions of the Russian institute. Reuniting with long-lost members of the mob and nodding at familiar faces, he settled right it. 

  
"Ah! The hero of Kazakhstan!" said Yakov, the oldest cell mate, smiling with crooked teeth at Otabek as he walked into their cell.

  
"Oh, give him a break, Yakov" Georgi laughed from his top spot on the bunk bed, throwing a dirty tennis ball at the Russian man. 

  
Otabek gave the two a half-assed smile, walking to his bed underneath Georgi. "So we're getting a new mate," he started, and the laughing stopped. It was a known fact, almost a tradition, that a new inmate looking to show dominance, is offing a guy in the first 24 hours. And what better way was there than to off one of your cellmates?

  
The first night was always a sleepless night, for the new inmate, and the ones around him. A nauseating game of who strikes first and when. Sighing, Otabek got up and headed for the yard, hoping to get some kind of gossip about who might be sent here in the next few days. As soon as he reached the big glass doors, he heard the chanting. 

  
_New meat._

  
Far away in the prison's gate, Otabek saw a black bus being permitted in. Men were surrounding the electric fence, chanting and growling like animals trying to act tough and freak the new inmates out. In front of the high fence, the black bus came to a stop.

Doors opening, two suited up guards stepped out and stood on each side of the door. Between them, on top of the stairs, there was movement. And then a pair of high, thin, black heels came into view.

  
_Wait... what?_

  
Thin, sheer covered ankles showing as the inmate took a couple steps down, followed by small milky white thighs, lace reaching the middle of them.

The dumbfounded crowd roared once again as on the top of those beautiful thighs, a short, plaid skirt ran smoothly up with every careful step down. Little waist covered by a big, fur coat, and Otabek had to take a moment to remind himself that he isn't at Paris fashion week.

  
Who the fuck was this person?

  
Blonde hair covered his face as the inmate crouched down to the railing, trying to reach for the two guards with handcuffed hands but instead, stumbling out of the bus. Majestically balancing himself on his two skinny legs, he stood up, flipping his long blonde hair back and staring at the gross animals in front of him. 

  
"Принцесса!" (Princess!)

"Шлюха!" (Whore!)

"Красотка!" (Pretty girl!)

  
The blonde rolled his eyes and allowed the guards to push him in the direction of the entrance, face looking grumpy and pissed.

  
"I suggest you shut your ugly little faces up" Yakov stood behind the crowd, crossing his muscly arms, looking bitter. "One word about this kid, and you'll have to choose which hand you wanna keep."

  
Otabek has never seen Yakov this angry before, crooked, wrinkly smile vanished from his memory as this new persona took over his cellmate. Who was this blonde kid?

  
"Nikolai Plisetsky wouldn't be too pleased to know that his grandson isn't enjoying his stay."

* * *

"Clothes off. Now." the guard said loudly, pacing around Yuri. Not taking orders from **anyone** , the blonde took his sweet time, sitting on the bench and slipping his shoes off slowly.

With the guard stepping away to grab a pair of gloves, Yuri reached behind himself, tore his stiletto knife from his coat and balanced it quietly underneath him, on the wood connecting one bench to the other. 

  
_For fucks sake. Victor can't save me now. What the fuck._

  
Stripping out of all his clothes, he picked them up and put them in the clear bag in front of him. "Face the wall and spread your legs."

  
He glared at the guard, really not in the mood for sticking anything up his ass, and turned around. He arched his back as he felt a gloved up finger penetrating him, moving around deeply to make sure he didn't sneak anything into the institute. 

  
"Put these on and face the wall when you're done." the guard ordered, laying a folded set of yellow uniform on the table in front of Yuri and picking up the bag with his clothes, vanishing from view. 

  
Yuri put the pants on quickly, reaching for the knife and putting it in the pocket on the side of his thigh. Taking his time then, he looked down, scrunching his face at the hideous color. Slightly oversized, the bright yellow nylon pants read "LFP" in black along the right side. **Lefortovo Prison.**

  
He put on the clean, white tank top, grabbing the yellow button up shirt and holding it in his hand as he turned to face the wall. 

  
"This way, Plisetsky."


	3. Blondie

"Plisetsky's grandson, huh?" Georgi said as he sat down next to his cellmates in the cafeteria, throwing an apple between his hands. Otabek ignored the russian man, replaying the scene in his head over and over. His legs, his hair, his outfit, his _eyes_. The rage and fire in them, along apathy and dullness.

This isn't the boy's first rodeo.

How? How was that a member of the Russian bratva, nonetheless the very grandson of Nikolai Plisetsky? How was that lanky kid in prison before and made it out alive? 

  
So many questions swirled Otabek's mind, cutting short as a loud bang had everyone's eyes facing the glass doors of the cafeteria. Skinny, blonde Plisetsky made his way into the room, looking like he isn't used to walk on flat shoes, scanning the room with hawk eyes.

  
Those _eyes_. Otabek could barely focus on his breathing as he waited for the blonde's eyes to fall on him. When they did, Otabek felt like they were the only people in the room. But Yuri moved on pretty quickly, eyes falling on Yakov. Yellow shirt clutched in his right hand, the boy walked towards the old man, face stern and steady, feeling every set of eyes in the room on him and not caring one bit. Throwing the scrunched shirt on the table, Otabek's heart skipped a beat as Yakov got up and stood facing the small boy, fire in his eyes matching the blonde's. And then, Yuri's long arms wrapped around the man's neck.

"I missed you, fucker." 

  
Yakov let out a laugh, rubbing the boy's back. "Oh Yura," he said, pulling away from the hug to look at the boy, "what went wrong this time?"

  
As the rest of the inmates went back to their previous conversations, Otabek stared, stunned at the pale boy as his pink lips tugged into a smile as he talked, big eyes shining as he looked up to Yakov. 

  
"I got a little surprise from the Kazakh's" the boy's eyes sparked with bitter-sweet wrath, keeping a tight smile on this lips, "trapped me right into the hands of the feds."

  
Yakov frowned, looking away from the revengous eyes of the teenager and into Otabek's, the latter pulled out of his trance as the blonde beauty turned his head towards him as well. Realizing he's been talked to, he blinked and turned to Yakov.

  
"Sorry, I wasn't listening. Welcome Plisetsky" he nodded respectfully at the blonde, getting the gesture back as Yuri's thin hand reached for his yellow shirt on the table. 

  
"I'll go get settled" Yuri sighed, walking around the table and snatching Georgi's apple from his hand. "Glad you're here, Yakov." 

  
Otabek watched as Yuri submissively walked to his cell, stopping for one last sentence in Yakov's ear.

  
"Let the Kazakh's know they're screwed."

* * *

"Nope."

"Yura.." Yakov sighed, watching the blonde sprawled out on his bottom bunk bed. 

"Nope. I don't do bunk beds. You're gonna sleep on top" Yuri closed his eyes, claiming his territory. "You've always wanted me under you anyways" 

Otabek laughed as the words left the boy's mouth, Yakov huffing in response and raising Yuri's sets of uniform to the top bunk. 

  
"Hey! What the-"

  
"Otabek, I'll see you outside in 5." The old man said sternly, leaving the room without another glance toward the two confused boys. 

  
"I better get going then," Otabek sighed, getting up from his bed. 

  
"Hey, no, fuck him" Yuri sat up, crossing his legs as he looked Otabek up and down, "I'm already losing my mind, entertain me for a bit" he said, leaning his head against the wall behind him. 

  
Otabek laughed. "You've brought quite the change of pace to this place already, I don't think I can compare"

  
Yuri tilted his head, blonde strands covering his eye as he smiled. "Glad you liked it, Otabek."

  
Otabek could feel his heart melt at the sight of the boy in front of him, nothing like the snobby teen he met not long ago. This boy is a fucking mystery. 

  
"Your name is foreign. You aren't from around here, are you?" Yuri asked, half listening to Otabek's answer as he studied the beautiful tattoos on the Kazakh's body. 

"No," Otabek huffed with a smile as he watched Yuri's eyes run down his arms. "I'm actually from Ka-"

  
"Was I not clear?" Yakov entered the cell, glaring at Otabek. The fire in his eyes pushed Otabek up to his feet, not daring to argue as he walked past the man and in the direction of the yard. Stepping out, he went to sit on one of the concrete benches as Yakov's hand gripped his arm, pulling him to the farthest side of the field. Otabek was confused as he was dragged further, worry settling in his stomach.

"Sit down." Yakov said as he stood facing the field. Otabek took a seat, waiting for the man to continue.

  
"I'm sure you had nothing to do with it, and if you did, then bravo Altin. But I would've liked a bit of a warning." The russian man sighed, looking straight ahead. 

  
"What are you talking about Yakov?" Otabek ran a thousand scenarios through his mind, trying to figure out what he did wrong.

  
"Kazakhs betrayed us. Made a deal with the local feds to get 'em off your back" Yakov spat, now knowing Otabek was unaware of the act as the boy looked up confused. "Your father is costing me a lot, Altin. If he takes one more of our soldiers down, you bet your ass I'll be doing the same" the man intimidatingly glared at Otabek. Getting the message, he let the info settle in his head. His father attacked the bratva. 

"Talk to your old man and send him my _regards_. As long as you keep my men safe, I'll keep my mouth shut, and so with Plisetsky's."

  
Otabek's mind shot back to the thought of smiling, tired Yuri on Yakov's bed, dazed and alone. Now knowing that his own father attacked this boy and locked him up here, he felt his blood boil. 

  
"I'll talk to him alright." Otabek spat, spitting on the floor and walking heavily towards the doors.

  
"Altin." Otabek turned around, locking angry eyes with the Russian. "It's better not to tell Yuri about your.. Origin. Kid's a brat" Yakov patted his back as he lead them both to their cell.

  
"Couldn't you wait 5 more minutes for your daily blowjob?" puffy-eyed Yuri smiled as the men stepped into the room. Otabek took one look at him and had to stop himself from latching onto the boy in a hug. He's been crying.

  
Yakov, however, chose to ignore the hooker's moment of weakness (for Yuri's sake) and picked the boy up from the bottom bunk, laying him on the top one as the blonde kicked around. 

  
"UGH fine" Yuri gave in, too embarrassed of his state to make a scene as he turned around to face the wall. 

  
And so they stayed, Yakov and Georgi walking in and out as Otabek sat on his bed and watched the blonde boy stare at the wall in front of him for hours, trying to imagine what's going through his beautiful head. The guilt he felt knowing his own father put this boy in such a state was devastating to him. He's never seen Yuri before, yet all he wanted was for that boy to be free and smile, not locked up in this hell hole. He'll protect him. He owes it to him. 

  
As night fell upon barred up windows, Yuri blessed the room with his face as he got down for inmate count, looking pale and lost in thought. Otabek knows he hasn't eaten all day, and it didn't look like he's going to shower tonight. His heart went out to Yuri. He didn't know what drew him so intensely to the blonde, all he knew was that Yuri was the most beautiful man he's ever seen, and through the short flamboyant facade Otabek got to see, there was a lost, scared boy trying to figure out where he's going. 

  
Late at night, Yakov and Georgi competeing who snores louder, Otabek found himself turning to look at Yuri. Not out of fear, the thought of the blonde trying to off him was ridiculous, but out of curiosity. He wanted to know everything about him, every secret and every pain, every dream. He wanted to know what happened to him, what he's been through, who hurt him. And god, if he'll ever find who hurt him, god will have to look away. 

  
As he turned to face the room, he locked eyes with the man. Bright, tired eyes catching his own, widening as the boy realized Otabek was awake. Yuri huffed with a smile, pulling his hand out of his blanket for a little wave to Otabek. Otabek smiled back, sitting up and walking to the boy, careful not to wake Yakov as he made his way to the bed above the man. 

  
Looking at Yuri waiting for Otabek to reach him with a smile sent a wave of warmth through Otabek, as he got closer Yuri sat up slightly, resting his arms and chin against the railing. 

  
"Hey" the blonde whispered, eyes shining as he seemed relieved he wasn't the only one awake.

  
"Hey" Otabek whispered with a laughed, leaning against the wall near Yuri's head. "The first night is rough. You're gonna be okay. You seem like a great kid" Otabek tried to play himself cool, blubbering words that sounded way better in his head. 

  
"Yeah, I know" Yuri sighed, "not my first time, unfortunately. It's always as depressing as the first time though." Otabek wanted to hug him so bad. He knew the boy has been battling with his head the whole day, he wanted to bring him comfort and rest.

  
"It's fucking weird, but might as well ask because apparently I was worth getting up for at 3 in the morning. Wanna get in?" Yuri asked, raising his blanket to reveal the hideous uniform that looked like designer clothes on his beautiful figure. 

  
Otabek thanked god as he looked into Yuri's eyes, trying to tame his manic smile as he climbed the ladder and settled next to Yuri, the boy turning to face the wall and Otabek wrapped his hands around him. 

  
"This is fucking weird" Yuri said softly, making Otabek laugh. "It definitely is."

  
"Aren't you scared?"

  
"Scared of what?"

"Being seen? I don't wanna fuck up your reputation"

Otabek laughed. "Don't worry, I'll be gone as soon as the morning alarm goes off."

  
Yuri hummed as he made himself comfortable in the stranger's hold, yet Otabek froze as he felt his hand clashing with metal in the blonde's pocket. For a moment, he was scared. But hell, even if the boy was offing him, what a blissful way to go it is. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm actually really excited for this fic, I hope you guys will stick around!


	4. Specialty

Yuri woke up with a heavy arm around his hip and hot breath on his neck. Alarmed for a second, he breathed out with a chuckle as he remembered last night. Fighting his sleepy body as it ached to fall back asleep in the warm hold, he turned around to face the brunette. 

  
"Pssst" he looked at Otabek's closed eyes, behind him a few rays of sunshine escaping through the window bars. Shaking the man by his shoulder, Otabek squinted one eye open as he studied the pale face in front of him. With a huff he closed his eyes again and breathed out annoyed. 

  
"Back to bed, sir" Yuri laughed, looking at Otabek. 

  
"Shut up, Blondie" Otabek's raspy voice answered with a sigh.

  
Yuri rolled his eyes. "Fuck outta my bed, Altin" he said as he patted Otabek's cheek a few times, slapping him awake. 

  
Otabek groaned, sitting up and glaring at the teen. Yuri escaped the eye contact, running his eyes over the tattooed body next to him. _Shit, he's one hot fucker_.

  
Watching Otabek walk back to his bed, Yuri stared dreamily, half asleep. When the man turned around, Yuri quickly fixed his eyes on the window, groaning as rays of sunshine hit his eyes. 

  
Clock reading 5:34, and body too awake to try to sleep again, he sat up on his bed. Looking around, Yuri sighed. 

  
He's lost. Sure, he's not alone, but his brain is currently eating up every positive aspect of his situation. The thought of staying here drove him mad. He's 19, he can't afford wasting the next three years of his life staring at a wall. He should be out, making his time worthy. He can't sit still and wait for his life to start again. 

  
An idea sparked in his head, and his eyes narrowed as his leg started jumping up and down in thought. Spending the next 30 minutes creating his plan, the morning alarm finally went off, cutting his thoughts short.

  
Soon, the cell door opened, and the sound of dozens of men talking filled the room. The four cellmates got up, ignoring each other as it was way too early to make conversation. Each man made his bed, then three of the inmates stood beside the bed, waiting tiredly for inmate count. Yuri, however, kept hanging on his bed's ladder like a monkey, rolling his eyes at the seriousness of the men in the room. 

  
_Yeah, no. I'm not gonna stay here for long._

  
After being yelled down, the four were let out to go to the cafeteria. Yuri wasn't new to prison, but this one hit him differently. Walking into the facility with his head up high, he knew he was safe behind it's gates, but as he walked through the halls, he realized how vulnerable he truly is. 

  
Although located in Moscow, the facility held inmates from all over Russia and beyond. Groups of all ethnics could be seen bundled together, talking in a language only they understand. Most importantly - the facility held inmates of all degrees.

  
"The fuck is that, Yakov?"Yuri asked he was dragged by Yakov to the cafeteria, noticing some of the inmates wearing a different colored uniform. Walking into the cafeteria, Yakov pushed Yuri down into a chair and got behind him, holding his shoulders. "Yellow uniform is us. Low threat, nonviolent." Yakov pointed at an inmate with cuffs around his feet. "Green - stay away." Yuri gulped, although not alarmed. Then, Yakov sighed as a skinny, pale man walked into the room, looking like a walking dead. "Blue," he sighed, "suicide watch."

  
Yuri watched as the man stumbled on his feet, and frowned. Before his head had the chance to sink him into any bad thoughts, he felt Yakov's hands leaving his shoulders.  
"Wait," Yuri said, catching Yakov's hand and pulling him down. "I need to talk to you."

  
"Soon, Yura." the old man walked away to the line, leaving Yuri to stare at table. He needed Yakov to help him. He could never do it on his own. 

"Not eating today either?" he heard the tattooed brunette place his food tray across him. Looking up, he saw the man smile at him as he sat down. _He seems like such a good person. Why is he here?_

Yuri chuckled as he looked down tiredly. "I think Yakov is grabbing me something."

  
"As he should, you're skin and bones" Otabek quickly winked at him as he looked up with a glare. "You've got mascara smeared all over your eyes from yesterday." Yuri rolled his eyes as a thought popped up in his mind. Fixing his posture, he looked back at Otabek. 

  
"How long?" 

  
Otabek tilted his head in confusion as he stuffed his mouth with bread. "How long what?"

  
Yuri sighed. "Like.. How long do you have left? When are you getting out of here?" 

  
"Should be 9 months, probably less if I behave" Otabek said between chews, not looking Yuri in the eyes.

  
Yuri took a deep breath as he leaned forward, locking the Kazakh's eyes with his. "How about 9 days?"

* * *

Otabek stopped chewing as he looked into the blonde's eyes, bright green orbs trapped between black, faded smears. Yuri's manic, crazy eyes stared into his with hope, fire, _trust_.

  
"What do you say?" Yuri urged, breathing heavily as he leaned on his elbows. 

  
Otabek's head started running. He can't run away with this troubled teen. He can't afford the police after him for the rest of his life, nor can he afford the whole bratva after him when the teen realizes who he is. He doesn't have much left for his sentence and he's been living at peace with the fact. He can't let this kid walk in and fuck up his life. 

  
Then why does he?

Otabek looked into Yuri's fierce eyes and crossed his arms, sitting back. 

  
"What's your plan, kid?"

  
Yuri's teeth showed as he smiled wide. "I don't know yet," he looked down and laughed, "I just need to know that you're in."

  
Otabek couldn't help but to take a moment to look at him. The thrill in his eyes, the happiness in his smile. This meant a lot to him. No matter how fucked and wrong his stupid plan was, he wanted to do everything he could to keep the boy's happiness right where it is. But he wasn't dumb. He knew this decision is a life changing one.

  
Lost in thought, the boys kept staring into each other's eyes, each considering the daunting idea. 

  
"Давай, eat up." Yakov set Yuri's food in front of him, pulling the blonde out of his trance. 

  
As they ate, the two boys kept eyeing each other knowingly, contemplating the weight of the sudden offer. Soon, the cafeteria doors opened, and the inmates were allowed out for free rein until their work hours. 

  
Otabek got up, glancing at Yuri as he picked up his tray and walked away. Surely, the boy is fucking manic. He just got here, and he's losing his mind. Otabek has to talk him out of it. 

  
He couldn't help but wonder why Yuri offered him the deal. Why him? Does he feel the same attraction to him? Does he really trust him that far, inviting him into his bed and asking to run away together into the motherfucking sunset less than 24 hours of knowing him? Yeah, Yuri is far from stable and Otabek can't fall into his impulsiveness. It would've been much easier if the boy wasn't so charismatic, so joyful, so _attractive_.

  
Sitting in the lobby, he watched as a group of Mexicans eyed him with disgust. He knew he wasn't on good terms with most of them, but by the look in their eyes, he's fucked. Frowning, he was about to walk over as he felt someone sitting next to him.

  
"They don't look too happy" Yakov sighed as he settled. 

  
Otabek sighed as he kept looking back at them. "Ran into Leo at the cafeteria. Apparently my father decided to go on a suicide mission. Attacked at the capital."

  
Yakov grunted. "Feds can't save him for long. Keep up your good heart here. They'll need every bit of reassurance to not stab you in the guts." 

  
Otabek chuckled bitterly. _Shit_. Otbaek worked with some of the guys at the repairing section, he knew they liked him enough to talk the rest of the group off his back, but a mafia attack stands to its name. Someone is going to attack. It's only a matter of time. 

  
A sudden elbow pushed against his shoulder, making him jump. Turning around, he saw Yuri laugh as he leaned against the two men. "Chill bitches. What's with the mex's?" 

  
"Kazakhs' attacked again." Yakov kicked Otabek's foot discreetly. 

  
"Aight, why are they pissed at Otabek then?"

  
Silence fell as the older men worked their brains. Giving up, Otabek settled with "No idea."

  
"Hmm," Yuri started. "Well, better to be safe than sorry. Want me to off?"

  
Otabek choked on his spit, coughing as he scrunched his eyebrows. This kid is insane. 

  
Yuri changed his position and moved to the other side of Otabek, leaning into his ear.

  
"If we're actually gonna do it, it wouldn't harm to take care of some... threats before that." He got up and smiled at the men, ruffling Yakov's hair. 

  
"Just give the word. It's my specialty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope I'm not going too fast lol, I have so many ideas and I'm reeeeally trying not to rush it and failing miserably. I'd love to hear any tips/ideas/opinions! Stay safe <3


	5. Exception

Prison jobs weren't too bad. Connecting a few wires and making a lamp work was the highlight of Otabek's shift, only focusing on not getting jumped as he stood with his back against the wall. Looking at the rampant men in front of him, his mind drifted back to Yuri's offer. 

  
Is it really that much of a bad idea? He's going to keep running from the police even when his sentence is over, he'll continue to work for his father either way. Why not cut his stay short and go back home? The more Otabek thought about the offer, his view of Yuri turned from insanity to admiration. The kid is onto something. 

  
Walking into his cell, he caught a glimpse of bright blonde hair. Looking up, he saw a smiling Yuri sitting on his bed, bouncing a tennis ball between his hands. 

  
"Think fast, Beks" he said as he threw the ball at Otabek, looking disappointed as the man caught it in his hands easily.

  
"Beks?" Otabek raised an eyebrow at the blonde, watching him hide his blush as he looked away, fixing his pillow. 

  
"Your name is too long, Beks is fun"

  
"If you say so, _Yura_ " he watched as Yuri smiled softly, finally turning around to face him. "Where were you scheduled?"

  
"Fucking laundry. If they think I'm gonna touch a single piece of fabric, they're mistaken." Yuri snapped, making Otabek laugh. 

  
The sun set behind the bars as the boys sat on their beds, throwing the ball back and forth between them. 

  
"How old were you when they recruited you?" Otabek asked as he threw the ball, taking a deep turn in their ongoing conversation.

  
"I guess I was always expected to join. After my grandfather had a grand fit about me not being a virgin, I was pretty much up on the horse since." Yuri laughed. "I was 16."

  
Otabek looked at Yuri, trying to read him. He knew the boy was only 19, he should have expected such an answer. But seeing the pain in Yuri's eyes, above his smile, hit Otabek hard. 

  
"Has it always been..." Otabek started, trying to find the right words. "Did you-"

  
"Not straight away, no" Yuri caught on, saving Otabek from stuttering. "We just fell into that routine. I'm not strong and I'm far from smart, I figured that's one of the only ways I can be superior to a man."

  
It pained Otabek to hear Yuri's words. In his eyes, the blonde was a genius. He wanted Yuri to know his worth, yet he barely knew the mind working behind those pretty eyes. 

  
"How many?" Otabek caught the ball, setting it aside as he looked at Yuri. 

  
Yuri sighed and looked down. Staying silent for a minute, he spoke up. "I don't know. Over a hundred for sure. It happened about once a week for so long."

  
Seeing Yuri sink into deep thoughts, Otabek was quick to pull him out of it. "That's a lot of dicks, kid"

  
Yuri laughed geniuenly, smiling at Otabek. "Hey, I have a question."

  
Otabek nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. 

  
"You're gay, right?" Yuri asked, squinting his eyes as he stared at Otabek.

  
The man raised his eyebrows in surprise. "No.. I mean, not really." 

  
Yuri chuckled. "What does that mean?"

  
Otabek took a moment to think. What _does_ that mean? 

  
"I'm mostly not attracted to anyone. Just a few get to be an exception." 

  
Yuri raised an eyebrow as he smiled teasingly. After a moment of silnce, Yuri spoke up again.

  
"Have you thought about it?" he looked at Otabek with big, hopeful eyes. 

  
"I need some more time, Yura" he said, seeing the blonde's face fall. Rushing to lift it up again, he continued. "So far, I'm pretty much down, but I need to figure out the risk of it."

  
Yuri nodded excitedly, laughing with relief. Taking a deep breath, a thought popped in his head.

  
"What about the Mexican?" He looked at Otabek wide eyed, adrenaline taking over him. 

  
Otabek closed his eyes and stretched. "Don't worry about him. They're good people, they'll keep him under control." 

  
"Under control my ass, he keeps looking at you like a starving wolf" Yuri snapped.

  
"Yura, let it go. I'll be fine" Otabek chuckled, picking up a towel and walking towards the door. Looking up, he winked at Yuri, and left for the showers. 

  
_Fucking idiot_ , Yuri thought. He barely knew the man, but he was already the highlight of his days. They spent every day talking, playing, laughing at inmates. Otabek didn't know, but he was Yuri's first friend. And Yuri was terrified at the thought of him leaving. 

  
Better safe than sorry.

  
Yuri climbed down from the bed and ran a hand down his thigh, feeling the knife in his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he left the room.

  
The meaning of death didn't cross his mind. He avoided thinking about his victims as humans, being trained for years to believe his target is a threat and he needs to remove it. Simple as that, no questions asked. 

  
Rounding a corner, he stepped into the lobby, spotting a few of the group playing with cards. Walking over to them, he smiled. "Hey babes, where's that tall muscly guy?"

  
"Watch who you're calling babe, faggot" a man glared up at him, and Yuri rolled his eyes.

  
"Fine, CEO of Alphaville. Anyone else?"

  
The man huffed as some of the crew chuckled, then one smiled and answered. "Jose left for the showers. What do you need?" 

  
Yuri smiled back. "Roman was looking for him. Thanks!" 

  
_Two birds with one stone_. Jose is going down, and his gang will go after stupid Roman that ditched the bratva a while back. Yuri, proud of his quick brain, walked through the halls with his head held high. Walking into the showers, he watched as men stood under lined up shower heads, one Otabek Altin catching his eye. Yuri stared as he watched the water spraying down on Otabek's tattooed body, muscles flexing as he raised his arms to wash his hair back. Gulping, Yuri had to mentally slap himself into focus again. 

  
Eye finding Jose sitting on a bench, Yuri quickly undressed himself and grabbed the closest towel. Wrapping it around his chest, the towel reached just below his crotch. Yuri huffed. _The fuck can I do with that?_

  
Yuri walked over to the platform and stood against the railing, facing the showers. Looking back, he saw Jose running his eyes up and down his body. Facing the showers again, he leaned his elbows on the railing, bending over just enough for the towel to ride up, not too obvious but definitely intentional. Subtly changing positions, his skinny legs played with each other until he stood up and turned around. Jose sat in front of him, legs spread and eyes filled with lust. He knew men here didn't get a good fuck for months, and it played perfectly. 

  
Walking up to him, he looked down at Jose as the man stared at his thighs, towel barely covering what's above. Looking up at Yuri slowly, he sighed. "What do you want in return?"

  
Yuri smirked. "Just a good fuck."

  
The men left the showers, Yuri with his uniform back on and knife in place. Getting into the bathroom, he watched Jose check every stall before getting into the last one.

Smiling, he walked in and locked the door. Jose sat on the closed lid with his legs spread as Yuri's slim body straddled him, his skinny hand running down his covered body. Reaching the hem of his shirt, Yuri pulled it up and off the man. 

  
Jose's hands sneaked into Yuri's tank top, grasping at his hips and pulling him closer, both gasping at the friction between them. Yuri let his head fall into the man's neck, breathing as he felt Jose's hands move up and down his back, sneaking into his underwear and grabbing his ass. Arching his back, Yuri rocked with the movement, grinding back and forth on Jose's dick as the man massaged his ass. Sighing softly, Yuri sat up and leaned back on Jose's knees, now humping his ass on the man's cock. Jose's hands rubbed against his arched back and ran across his flat stomach, squeezing his ass one more time before Yuri got up and took his shirt off.

  
Yuri looked at Jose as he went down on his knees, slowly taking the uniform off his legs along with his underwear. Not breaking eye contact, he looked up as he licked under the man's balls, sucking one into his mouth as he ran his hand up the man's chest. Swirling his tongue around it, he moved to the next one, hand coming down to tease around the base of his cock. 

  
"Come on, bitch" Jose gasped, grabbing at Yuri's hair. Yuri looked up at him and popped the ball out of his mouth. Spitting on his hand, he sucked on the side of the hard cock as he grasped the tip, swirling his finger softly around it. Switching, a sucked his way up to the tip, taking it into his mouth and swriling his tongue slowly. His hand pulled on the hard dick and his mouth swallowed around it as Jose grabbed his hair, humping into his warmth. Yuri, gagging, hit his fist against Jose's thigh and the man let go of his hair. 

  
Now breathing, Yuri got up and sat on Jose's lap, legs spreading as he leaned back against his chest. "I'm not your whore," he said as he grabbed Jose's hand, running it down his stomach and into his underwear. Yuri moaned as Jose's warm hand cupped him, carressing his cock and fondling his balls. Running his palm up and down the area, Jose stretched a finger down to circle Yuri's hole. Yuri gasped as the finger pushed against him, feeling the hand in his pants move down as three fingers rubbed against his entrance. Holding back his moans, he grinded down against the fingers as he felt them penetrate him slowly, one after the other. Humping down, he choked out a moan as his spot was hit. He scratched Jose's knees as he desperately fucked himself on the man's fingers, until he came to his senses. Pulling Jose's hand out of his pants, he got up and straddled the man. They both breathed against each other as Yuri pulled his pants down just enough to make his entrance available. Slowly sinking onto the rock hard cock, Yuri sighed in pleasure as Jose's hands rubbed his smooth sides, running his thumbs across his pink nipples. As he sank down completely, Yuri smirked teasingly at Jose as he rolled his hips, bouncing softly as the man clutched at his sides. Picking up the pace, Yuri angled himself just right as he held himself from screaming out. Jose grabbed his ass, not caring about the slapping noise as he pushed Yuri up and down on his dick, pulling at his hips as his mouth moved to suck on the blonde's hot neck. 

  
Yuri held Jose's hand tightly against his neck as he reached down into his pocket, pulling the knife out and holding it behind Jose's head. Knowing he's close, Yuri didn't waste time as he pleasured himself against the cock, feeling his neck being sucked and rocking down faster as he closed his eyes, reaching his high. Choking out a moan, he twitched around the man, who fucked faster into him. Coming to his senses, Yuri focused on his task. Gasping into the man's mouth, he saw him close his eyes as he bucked his hips up, bouncing Yuri up as he came.

  
Show time.

  
Yuri breathed in as he fixed his grasp on the knife, stabbing into the man's chest over and over, hand not resting as he pushed into the man repeatedly. Strong hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing hard as he reached behind him and closed his fist around Jose's balls, squeezing hard and pulling back and forth forcefully. Yuri's other hand, now weaker as the boy's body ached for air, stabbed into the side of Jose's neck. With a shout, Jose left Yuri's neck to grasp onto his own, pushing against the wound as he gasped for air. Yuri got up and backed away, watching as the man fell to his knees, clutching at the gushing cuts. Pulling up his pants, he groaned.

  
Blood. Everywhere. What a fucking idiot. 

  
Yuri panicked as he saw the man take his last breath, eyes wide open as his body layed against the toilet. _Think, Yura, think._

  
Yuri's eyes filled with tears as he realized he's stuck. Shaking, he climbed on the toilet sit and scanned the room. No one. Sinking down into the toilet, he curled up and cried quietly, never looking the dead body in the eyes. 

  
How the hell is he going to get himself out of this mess?


End file.
